


Prompt--"This Is a Bad Town For Such a Pretty Face"

by AgentInfinity



Series: Prompts and Such [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Guns, Knives, Les Amis are criminals in a crew in this AU, Murder, There's some Cosette/Marius hinted at the end, Think modern day Robin Hood except they also give money to themselves, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 06:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18026828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentInfinity/pseuds/AgentInfinity
Summary: Cosette arrives in town to work a job, but first, she has to blow off some steam.





	Prompt--"This Is a Bad Town For Such a Pretty Face"

**Author's Note:**

> I got this prompt from Tumblr:
> 
> I don't know if you're still doing prompts or anything, but I was just listening to a playlist for the Umbrella Academy (which is awesome btw even if you don't watch the show), and one of the songs on it is "Kill Of The Night" by Gin Wigmore. Just wondering if you could write something based on that? Maybe from the line "This is a bad town for such a pretty face."
> 
> So, yeah. I did that.

Cosette’s heeled boots click briskly down the sidewalk as she pulls her leather jacket tighter around her torso. The pink and beige floral dress under it was suitable for earlier, when the late summer sun had still been beating down on the concrete and asphalt, but now that dusk had fallen, the threat of autumn is bleeding into the air, sweeping chilly breezes through the nooks and crannies of the city. 

She's running late for a meeting about a job, the reason she'd hopped on a plane that morning and left the Southeast, the place she thought of as her home. Honestly, she has houses and apartments in various places all over the world, but the friendly drawls and heat of the South would always hold her heart. 

True, they could stand to let go of some of the toxic ideals they were clinging to, but, she never could pass up a chance to stop by and visit her father and breathe in the familiar smells of the orchard where she'd grown up. Well, mostly grown up. 

That was a much longer story.

The job she's being offered will pay more than enough to ease the sting of cutting short her trip home. It's enough to pull her to this city up north, full of pollution and attitudes and an impressive criminal underbelly of which everyone knows but no one speaks. Dirty criminals and even dirtier cops.

Cosette doesn't want to live here, but she approves of the dynamic. It speaks to her Robin Hood sensibilities, which come second only to her sense of self-preservation.

Movement from across the street catches her eye, but she doesn't acknowledge it. She assumed at this hour on an all but abandoned street that she would attract attention. Dressed in her best southern charm dress with matching boots and chocolate leather jacket, she knows how easy of a mark she appears to be. At this particular point in time, she’s the farthest from intimidating as possible.

Okay, maybe she _is_ a little upset about leaving her father that morning sitting on the porch sipping his tea with a frown, and okay, yeah. Maybe a fight would help relieve some of that uncomfortable tension. 

Two men have been following her for a couple blocks now, and with the addition of Mr. Number Three across the road, she knows for a fact she's being targeted. 

Which is fine. She's got four blades and two guns on her person. Acquiring those had been her first stop after dropping her belongings at the hotel.

If there was one thing she learned from her father, a former convict turned farmer, it’s to always be prepared for any situation.

So, Cosette isn’t surprised when one of the men grabs her from behind and tosses her into an alleyway. The bite of asphalt against her knees and palms is jarring, but she pushes it away and stands, backing up against one of the buildings and letting her features fall into the epitome of terror and helplessness.

“Please, don’t hurt me. I don’t have anything to take, please,” she whimpers, hunching in on herself, pleased when they keep coming closer.

“Now, now, doll, I’m sure that’s not true. Don’t sell yourself short,” the man closest to her sneers. The one behind him laughs, ugly and mocking.

“The way you’re dressed, I bet you have _something_ for us.” She gives herself over, then, to the theatrics of it all, falls back on the lessons she learned in all those community theatre productions as a kid.

Back then, Cosette just thought her dad wanted her to get out of the house a little bit, but she’s since seen the reasoning behind his methods. Not that he wanted her to follow in his footsteps as a thief, but he definitely recognized her talents for what they were. Knew she’d find out about his past sooner or later.

He could see her hunger and understood what it meant.

“I don’t have anything, please! I left my wallet and phone at home. I don’t have anything on me. Just let me go, I won’t say anything, I swear! Please, please don’t hurt me,” Cosette sobs and shakes all over, even managing to squeeze out a few tears. The first man laughs and continues moving in, the other two flanking him closely. She curls in on herself even tighter and slips a hand into her jacket, grasping the blade in her inner pocket and waiting for her moment.

“Such a pretty face surely has something if she’s walking alone in this part of town. We’ll just have to look closer.” A hand grasps her forearm, and the game is on. She draws her knife, a black lightweight dagger, ideal for throwing, but comfortable for close-range fights as well. As she pulls it out of her coat, she catches him across the hand gripping her arm, slicing him deeply between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Fuck!” he yells, pulling back and holding his hand to his chest. She watches as the other two look to him, clearly the leader, waiting for an indication of what to do next.

“Oh, silly me, I forgot to mention the weapons, I guess you were right. I _did_ have something on me.” Throwing hard and straight, she lodges her knife in the side of nearest guy’s neck, smirking as he goes down gurgling and wheezing. His buddy and the only one not yet injured spins and watches with wide eyes as the guy on the ground scrabbles at the knife with clumsy fingers, blood beginning to seep out around it. He’s frozen, but the leader of their little pack seems to be startled back into action.

“You little bitch,” he snarls, pulling his gun with his good hand and aiming, but it’s clearly not his dominant one and it takes too long. Cosette is already on him, pushing his gun arm up and away and taking the gun for herself. She aims at his forehead, and his arms automatically go up, his eyes wide and fearful. Cosette grins at him, predatory and full of teeth.

“I think we need a lesson in manners, boys. This is no way to welcome someone to your town,” she admonishes, her southern twang bleeding through just a bit. The third man is jolted from his former frozen state at the sound of her voice, and he pulls his gun as well. She’s too far from him to disarm him in the same way as the first guy, so she swings the gun around and kneecaps him. Two quick shots break the silence of the alley and then she’s training the gun back on the first guy. Somewhere behind the screaming and bubbling breaths of someone drowning in their own blood, footsteps pull her attention back to the mouth of the alley.

A figure slunk around the corner, freezing for a split second to take in the scene. Cosette was already gripping the other knife concealed the sleeve of her free hand when a familiar voice broke the tension.

“There you are, C. Boss got worried when you didn’t show,” Grantaire informs her as if she hasn’t maimed two men and has another held at gunpoint. Although, it’s his gun, so really, he just forced her hand.

“I’m only half an hour late, buddy. No reason to send out a search party.” He pointedly looks around at the scene and then back to her. She rolls her eyes “I clearly have this handled.”

With her attention seemingly elsewhere, the first guy rushes her, but she was ready for it and sidesteps him easily, bringing the gun down hard on the back of his head as he moves past her. He’s instantly out, and all his forward momentum propels his lax body into the brick wall of the building behind them. He crumples, landing awkwardly on his side, and stays there.

“These guys aren’t important, right?” she asks, hoping she didn’t just create any problems, but really not very worried if she did. Grantaire shrugs and shakes his head.

“They don’t look familiar, not sporting any colors, but it’s hard to tell these days. New crews popping up and getting knocked back down all the time.” He takes in the two on the ground next to him and whistles. “Really did a number on these two, though.” She shrugs back at him, a mocking smile on her face. “Well, this one’s going to bleed out. You nicked his popliteal.” The ground below the left leg of the one she’d hobbled _was_ rapidly turning into a red pond.

“That one isn’t going to make it because I want my knife back.” The knife still in the throat of the other guy was keeping enough pressure on the wound to keep him from bleeding out, but she really liked that knife, so his neck didn’t get to keep it.

“Right, well, wouldn’t want that other guy to get lonely.” Grantaire pulls his own gun and quickly dispatches all three men with three precise head shots. “Get your knife. We’re on a time table.” 

“Nice to see you too, Grantaire,” she sighs, wiping her prints off the gun with the hem of her dress and tossing it in the direction of the leader. Once she’s done retrieving her knife and wiping it off as best as possible on Dead Guy Number Two’s shirt, she catches up with Grantaire at the mouth of the alley. There’s no one else on the street, so they head down the sidewalk, just two people, out for a nighttime stroll.

“It is always a pleasure, Cosette,” Grantaire informs her, hugging her to his side and kissing her temple. “I like your style. Did that have a purpose or did you need to blow off some steam?”

“A little of both, I think.” Grantaire chuckles and rests his arm around her shoulders, sharing some of his body heat with her. Now that the adrenaline of the fight is wearing off, she’s cold again.

“Well, we’ve all missed you. Pontmercy has been bereft ever since you left last time.” Cosette smiles in spite of herself. Grantaire notices, but doesn’t acknowledge it. Bless him.

“I guess we’d better hurry then,” she says, and speeds up her steps as sirens begin to fade in behind them. It might not be her favorite city, but she _is_ happy to be back. Perhaps it’s the people that make the place.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! And thanks, Nonny, for the prompt. This was a fun one. If anyone wants to send me something you'd like to read, my tumblr is [here](http://agentxinfinity.tumblr.com). I also accept questions and comments and virtual hugs. <3


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